Fix You
by B.J. Sanders
Summary: He didn't know how men worked, but he knew machines better than the back of his hand, so he stuck to what he knew, men be damned. Scotty is hurt on shore leave, McCoy tries to help him through it.


Title: Fix You

Rating: T

Pairing: McCoy/Scotty, sorta

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Written for prompt on st_xi_kink meme on LiveJournal. _Scotty, non-con. "It's easier to fix men than it is to fix machines."_

* * *

Montgomery Scott knew he hadn't been alone down there, knew there were others right around the corner, just out of smiling distance, but it was shore leave, and he wasn't supposed to be thinking of danger

Then again… whenever had they shore leave _without_ something going wrong?

They were two men, strong and powerful and he was only one, easily overtaken as he was ogling spare parts in a small market. No one in the crowd looked twice as he was dragged away, half-unconscious and bleeding from a head wound.

They kept him in a dark place, tied down so that he couldn't move. And then they took turns until he was bloody and couldn't scream anymore, until he could barely breathe.

Scotty didn't know how many days had passed, or if it had only been hours, but the next thing he knew were the lights of the _Enterprise _shining over his head, specifically those of the sickbay. And Doctor McCoy's hands on his arm.

He tried not to flinch at the contact, but he couldn't help it. Darkness came rushing back at him even though his eyes were open, memories that he didn't want fighting their way to the surface of his mind, faces he didn't know but knew too intimately, hands that he had never wanted to feel on his skin, bodies inside of his that he had never… had never…

Scotty felt sick, violently so, but nothing came up when he started coughing. Pain shot up his spine and he struggled to breathe momentarily. McCoy's hand was on his back, but Scotty pushed him away. "Ahm fine, doctor," he tried reassuringly, but his throat was too dry, too scratchy, and it hurt to force the words out.

It hurt even more to force the smile. But he had to, because he had known he hadn't been alone, and yet… he hadn't tried to call for help.

"Ahm fine."

-

Everyone believed him when he said it, didn't press the issue. Things returned to normal, and he returned to dilithium crystals and warp coils. He didn't eat quite as much, and he didn't sleep quite as well, but things were still okay.

Everything was fine.

The doctor's the only one who seemed to notice his weight going down and the dark circles beneath his eyes, but still… no one said anything. Part of Scotty felt good that it was all in the past, that the issue wouldn't come into play, but another part….

It wasn't good to keep it inside.

He didn't know how men worked, but he knew machines better than the back of his hand, so he stuck to what he knew, men be damned.

-

Scotty hadn't realized he had passed out until there was a burn on his hand and it was being treated. He hadn't actually felt it, but he winced when Bones wrapped a little too tight, twisted just a little too far.

"You haven't been sleeping." It was a statement, not a question, and Scotty didn't answer it. "You haven't been eating, either."

There was an IV in his arm, he realized, pumping in the nutrients and vitamins that he hadn't been getting, and there was a hypo in the doctor's hands. Scotty knew what it was for.

"Nae, doctor, jus' cannae stop thinkin'." It wasn't the complete truth, but at least it wasn't a lie.

"Doesn't matter how much you think, Scotty," Bones told him seriously. "Everyone has to sleep."

He didn't want to sleep though. He remembered things when he slept – nightmares that he knew were true. Scotty still felt them on his skin, and no amount of washing got rid of that.

Before he could protest, Bones' hypospray was in his neck, and he descended into the land of nightmares once again.

-

Bones wasn't saying he was worried, but he was. In a sense. Scotty was his patient, one of the many, and while he couldn't keep a constant eye on all of them, he could on the ones who needed it.

Scotty needed it. There was no doubt.

Two minutes into sleep and he was thrashing around, tearing cords from his arms, bleeding from where he had twisted the IV into his arm. There wasn't any screaming, but there was quiet whimpering and god awful sounds that made McCoy feel helpless. He didn't even have to look in his book to know what this was, and it shamed him to know that he hadn't caught it sooner.

Scotty stopped after some time, just jerking violently and crying silent tears. Bones' heart throbbed at the sight of the strong Scotsman broken down. It should not have happened, and he shouldn't have let it get so far along.

Scottish pride be damned, McCoy was going to find a way to fix this.

-

The doctor sat with him at lunch. It was awkward, having someone watching him eat. He wasn't sure he liked it, but didn't voice his opinion.

Scotty ate slowly, taking small bites until Bones smiled at him. The plate was almost empty, and if he ate like that during breakfast and dinner, they'd have no problem. The only problem that really seemed important at the moment was sleep.

Bones didn't think Scotty would take too kindly to them sharing a bed, but if he…

"Scotty, do you mind if I set up a cot in your room?"

Scotty looked surprised. "I donnae mean to be rude, doctor, but why?"

McCoy didn't look offended, just shrugged. "My room's being _renovated_ or something. I slept in my office last night… but I didn't get any sleep. Damn nurses don't know what _do not disturb_ means."

Scotty looked hesitant, but nodded consent anyway. How bad could it be?

-

Bones knew it had been a good idea, but he wasn't sure if the circumstances had proved positive. Scotty was mid-thrash when he fell out of the bed and into McCoy's cot, shaking like a leaf. Bones felt something brush against his thigh.

And hard as rock, too, it seemed.

Joanna used to have nightmares, and when Jocelyn had been kind enough to him to let him stay, he'd watched how she'd resolved them. He'd never tried then, but now he could, so he put one hand on the back of Scotty's head, petting and trying to reassure him through hushed whispers.

He sat them up and rocked, his other hand stroking down Scotty's tense back. "It's okay, it's okay," he repeated. "It'll be alright."

Scotty was awake, clinging to the doctor's shoulders and crying quite audibly, still shaking. Bones' shirt was probably wet with tears and snot, but he didn't mind. Not if it helped Scotty.

It took awhile for the engineer to calm down enough to breathe without choking on a sob, and even longer for him to let go the doctor, but when he did, his eyes were red and puffy and his voice was unsure.

"Sorry, doctor. I did'nae mean to—"

Bones cut him off before he could really start. "It's okay, Scotty. It's alright."

Scotty looked ashamed. "I liked it." It was a quiet admission, one that had McCoy straining to hear. Scotty said more though. "I liked it, what they did to me. Even through the—through the pain, it felt good." He looked to be crying again, shaking his head like he was screaming. "I did'nae want it to feel good, doctor! I tried not to!"

Bones' hands were on his shoulders, warm and grounding. "It's okay, Scotty. I understand. It's a natural reaction. You can't help what your body feels. Not even Vulcans have that ability, no matter how much they think they do. It's okay."

Scotty swallowed thickly, shaking his head. "I feel dirty."

McCoy nodded knowingly, standing and helping him up, lead him to the shower. He didn't turn away when Scotty started stripping down, didn't leave when he sat at the bottom of the stall.

The water was scalding hot, the Scotsman's skin burning red beneath the torrent. He just sat there, rocking back and forth, eyes clenched tight.

McCoy took a deep breath before joining him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Scotty jumped, eyes wide and terrified. "It's okay," he repeated, petting again because he didn't know what else to do. "It's okay."

The sponge was at his feet, so he used that in place of his hand, running it down Scotty's back in slow strokes, running his other hand behind it. They were feather light touches but they had Scotty shivering.

Bones didn't stop say it though. "It's okay, it's okay. It'll be alright, Scotty."

Scotty was very inclined to believe him, but he wasn't sure if he could do it just yet.

-

He didn't sleep with nightmare the next few nights, not with McCoy pressed against him, warmth seeping in, the words continuous through the hours.

But then they returned with a vengeance and McCoy was helping him in the shower again. "What happened?" he asked finally.

Scotty shook his head. He wasn't ready to answer this.

"It's okay. You can tell me."

"They—it was—" Words failed him, but McCoy's hands were there, on his back, down his arms. It would be okay. He had to believe that. "They raped me." The word hurt, didn't feel right in his mouth, but he didn't know any other way to put it. "They took turns, left their marks. They were everywhere, and I couldn't stop it. I didn't call out for help when they took me, and I didn't call out when they let me speak. I didn't even ask for help…"

"It's not your fault," Bones said, like he knew what was going to follow. "It's not your fault, you hear? Don't blame yourself for what they did."

It was stern, like an order. Scotty nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Say it."

Scotty nodded again, but it took a moment to speak. "It wasn't my fault."

McCoy's were on his chest now, scrubbing away what had been left. "You believe that, just keep saying it. It's not your fault."

"It's not my fault."

Bones kept washing.

"It's not my fault."

One day, Scotty figured he'd believe it. Bones leaned forward, pressed his lips to Scotty's forehead. It didn't hurt, like he expected, didn't make him flinch.

He'd believe it one day, that was certain.


End file.
